The World Is My Stage
by PhantomPanther
Summary: Although Cloud has been gone for 4 years, Tifa still can't let him go. Hitting rockbottom, she finds solace in music which seems to be the only way to soothe her ailing heart. One-shot/songfic. Slightly AU.


**Phantom: **This story was inspired by a couple of songs I've become fond of lately, and this idea had been swimming around in my head for ages – I just wasn't quite sure how to put it down on paper. It is a quick drabble about the painTifa is experiencing while Cloud has disappeared, just before Advent Children when he turns up again. This story is slightly out of context time-wise and is also slightly AU, so you'll have to forgive me for that, but otherwise, I do hope you enjoy. The message I'm trying to get across is about Tifa's heartache after Cloud leaves, more than anything.

**Songs featured:** "A** Back Home" by Gym Class Heroes ft. Neon Hitch and "I Could Say" by Lily Allen. (NOTE: Some lyrics in "I Could Say" have been changed for obvious reasons.)

**Warning:** Bittersweet, some profanity.

**The World is My Stage**

A Tifa Lockheart Story

Tifa had come to acceptance now that he was never going to return. Or, at the very least, contact her, even if he did. It was unlikely. Why should he bother? She held nothing of interest for him. Nothing to gain. The object of her desires had been gone for two years, now – vanished, without a trace.

She knew that he was struggling with an inner battle – a storm which had been raging for years – but in her opinion, it seemed futile to try to fight it. The least he could try and do was come to acceptance of it. What's done was done – nothing he could say or do could bring them back.

Could bring _her_ back, Tifa thought in distain. The Flower Girl – the one who had ensnared his heart and left him so blind. Tifa couldn't think of a more sublime example of that grand old saying 'love is blind'.

All that heartache – and for what? Where did that leave him now? Full of anger and bitter hatred for what he had lost, and yet, he was _still_ so blind. He could only focus on the negative; never mind those who were _still here_ and surprisingly still gave a shit about him – _loved_ him, even. He pushed them all away.

Tifa wondered why she ever tried so hard. He never reciprocated anything. Why couldn't she just relinquish these feelings for him? Surely she had tortured herself enough by now.

But now, Geostigma had taken hold, and it seemed like the Planet was forever doomed from this moment on. Midgar's hero had deserted them, and now Denzel was going to die. Tifa tried to remain strong for his sake – and Marlene's – and dearly hoped that Marlene wasn't going to contract the seemingly incurable disease. It was only a matter of time.

She spoke soft words of reassurance to the children, and each night after she'd hustled the drunks out of her bar, put out the trash, cleaned up the vomit – she'd put them to bed and after they'd gone to sleep, she would finally retire to her own bed, and cry – great, heaving sobs that wracked her body mercilessly. How long was it going to be like this for? Questions swirled in her mind, going unanswered.

How could it be that she had ended up in this hole of a place, all by herself, with two orphaned children to bring up? How could he have _done_ this to her? The nerve! She screamed at him in her head – often. It was absurdly selfish, him dealing with his own problems before thinking of the kids who looked up to him as their idol, in the absence of their own parents.

Wasn't that what being a parent figure was about? Putting your kids before yourself? For Gaia's sakes, Cloud was the one that picked Denzel up from the slums in the _first_ place!

As much as she hated to admit it, Tifa wasn't the only one who missed him, despite his jackass tendencies. Out of all of them, it was Denzel who felt the most betrayed. Being a boy, and orphaned at such a young age, Cloud had acted more or less like a father-figure to him, despite Cloud's objections to that notion–

"_How am I supposed to be a father? I'm not fit to look after _myself_, let alone another person." _

–Denzel still loved Cloud, as a father or no. Love knew no boundaries, as Tifa knew all too well.

Tifa often stared out the window, especially when it was quiet, wiping the bar with a cloth absentmindedly. She watched the people passing by, the kids playing in the gutters, and she lost herself in her own musings.

_Damn it, _she thought – _how many more years am I going to find myself leaning against this bar, with the stench of stale beer in my nostrils, fat perverted drunks leering at me, staring out that fucking window? He's not going to come back. He never returns calls, or texts. He's probably commit suicide, for all I know_.

She flinched at that thought, wondering where that had sprung up from; it was harsh, but it could very well be true, for all she knew. Cloud would be the last person on earth to ever ask for help from anyone, especially when it came to his own needs or wants.

_I'm going to end up a bitter, twisted old spinster and probably a drunk, myself, at this rate, if I don't do something now. _

It was in that very moment that Tifa decided she was going to turn her life around. She didn't know what she was going to do, yet, but she would be damned if she was going to wait another moment for that flaxen-haired bastard to turn up on her doorstep, expecting to be let in like nothing had changed. Two years was long enough. Nevermind turning the page and starting a new chapter – it was time to close the book, and start a new one, altogether.

**- Two Years Later - **

"You're live in ten, sweetheart."

Tifa nodded and thanked her manager with a cursory nod, turning back to the mirror. She often still had moments of stupefaction before her shows, wondering how in the world she had managed to pull it off.

The moment her fingers slid across the keys in the music shop that day, she knew she still had it. Playing the piano was scarcely a childhood memory to Tifa, when her father had taught her how to play – before her martial arts, even, and before he was so brutally killed. After Sephiroth had slain him, Tifa had not touched the piano, deeming it too painful. But she had not forgotten.

She started out by playing basic melodies and ballads, including those that were currently in trend that blared on the radio. It was not a difficult skill to relearn, and she found herself enjoying it greatly. It was like an escape from her somewhat more unforgiving reality. For a few brief moments, each time she visited the music shop, she could forget her meagre life as a barmaid-come-single mother, and lose herself in the music.

Finally, she saved up enough money to buy her own piano. The store-manager was relieved, to say the least, when she finally bought one. Since she had no means of getting the grand old thing up the stairs, she had to place it down in the bar. Occasionally she would play for the customers, and she was surprised when she started to become more popular.

Patrons would often ask her to play on a certain night for them, and started tipping her. Word spread quickly. Groups of people would come just to listen to her, making requests, and some of them even got up and started dancing – if they'd had enough to drink, that is.

Soon, she became so in-demand to be playing on a Thursday night that Tifa started advertising. She learnt as many songs as she could remember – whatever her customers requested. She put up posters around town, and made new signs for the bar to market herself. She was even making enough money to be able to hire another person to cover the bar part-time while she played. Business was as good as it had ever been, even since the days before Edge. All thoughts of Cloud were pushed to the back of her mind as her popularity rose.

She decided on calling herself _Raven_ – a variation of a nickname derived from her father, who had called her "his little blackbird" as a youngster, due to her dark hair – but she thought _Raven_ sounded more professional and grown-up, if you will.

It was bizarre, to say the least, to be playing Tchaikovsky one night and then Disturbed the next, and it wasn't until one drunken patron cried out "Sing for us!" that the pieces finally fell into place. Tifa hadn't tried out her singing voice since she'd been in the school choir – and even then she didn't think that she had much talent.

But after the encouragement of her customers, Tifa sang – and sing, she did. The surprisingly syrupy cadence burst out of her lungs as she found herself singing along to popular pop songs, her fingers flying across the keys. The crowd cheered and clapped.

To say it was a defining moment was an understatement. It was a _revelation_.

People came back in droves to hear Raven sing at her bar. She became the hottest new thing this side of the Midgar ruins. She was earning so much money now that she went out and bought the kids all-new clothes, and even some new outfits for herself. She bought herself a microphone and proper sound-system, and started charging people at the door.

Her agent-to-be had come along several weeks later to see what the fuss was about. After hearing her sing to less than three songs that night, he had her signed up to his recording label. Her contract was signed, sealed and delivered and, without more adieu, she was singing professionally in a recording studio, ready to make her debut. 7th Heaven was recruited with all-new staff, and Tifa and the kids were moved-out and shipped-off to a more well-appointed apartment in a nicer part of Edge.

Eighteen months later, she had released an album and just about toured the entire Planet. Now, she was back in Midgar, singing at a charity concert to raise awareness for Geostigma, or "The Stigma" as it had become known as on the street, these days.

The concert tonight was free, and was to be held at a well-known nightclub in the nightlife district of Edge. Despite its spacious size, the club was heaving with patrons and was packed almost to capacity.

Tifa had met some talented musicians in the industry since her launch to fame. They, along with her own life experiences, inspired her to write her own songs, and she often did duets or collaborations with other artists.

Tonight, for the charity concert, she would be bursting live on stage with 'The Lifeblood', a contemporary new band consisting of four young men. They provided excellent backup for one of Tifa's own songs and one of the band members happened to be able to spin a rhyme – he turned her words into a well-versed rap which Tifa knew would be a hit the moment she heard it. The result was phenomenal and subsequently went straight to the top of the charts.

This would be the song that 'Raven and The Lifeblood' would be performing tonight, together. Tifa secretly thought that the lanky young man with flame-red hair and a cocky, lop-sided smile – the one who could rap, coincidentally – was particularly dishy, although she'd never admit it. She didn't need to guess that he probably had an ego the size of Bahamut.

Tifa stared at herself in the mirror, silently psyching herself up for the performance. It never seemed to get any easier, but as soon as she was up there, the nerves fell away and she lost her inhibitions. She felt a sensation of clarity and freedom when she was performing.

When the final knock rapped on her door, she knew it was go-time. Taking a deep breath, she headed toward the stage.

Tifa grinned to herself from behind the curtain. She could hear the audience and how riled up they were – no doubt intoxicated, feverish and high on excitement – all just to see her. She could hear her name being chanted, even. The members of The Lifeblood had already taken the stage with their musical instruments – guitar, synthesizer and drums – on a blacked-out stage. It wouldn't be until Tifa took her centre-stage behind the standing microphone that the lights would blare on and illuminate the club.

"You're on!" Finally, her cue.

Decked out in skin-tight black leather pants, combat boots and a red silk halter-neck top, Tifa morphed from her everyday, humdrum, barmaid self into _Raven_ – femme-fatale superstar of the moment. The woman that men fantasized over and who women wished they could be. She had made it.

As the crowd went wild, she needed no introduction. The music began, and the words began to flow.

_I don't know…_

_Where you're going,_

_Or when you're coming home…_

_I left the keys under the mat _

_To our front door_

_For one more chance to hold you close_

_I don't know where you're going_

_Just get your ass back home._

She needed no spurring on as the crowd just about lost their minds, delirious and drunk on the drug that was Raven. She was still stupefied at how she could have this effect on people. The words were simply what came from her own heart from her wounded past, and she assumed that somehow people could relate to them. Everyone had their complexes, after all.

The flame-haired male, who Tifa had previously learnt was named Reno, then sidled up to her with a somewhat erotic flourish, causing the crowd go into raptures. He winked at her and slid an arm around her backside not a moment too soon before he started rapping the next part of the song–

_We both knew this type of life didn't come with instructions_

_So I'm trying to do my best to make _

_Something outta nothing_

_And sometimes it gets downright shitty in fact_

_When you call and I don't even know_

_What city I'm at._

_Or what day of the week in the middle of the month_

_In a year I don't recall._

_It's like my life's on repeat and the last time we spoke_

_I told you I wouldn't be long, yeah_

_That was last November now December's almost gone,_

_I'd apologize but I don't realize what I'm doing wrong…  
_  
Tifa smiled and wiggled her hips as she repeated the chorus again; somehow, she liked this man. He was smug, sure, but she felt like it was all just for show. She didn't think he was really like that, deep down. He winked a big green eye at her and started to rap the second verse.

_And you been nothing but amazing_

_And I will never take that for granted_

_Half of these birds would have flew the coop but you, you truly understand it_

_And the fact you stood beside me_

_Every time you heard some bogusness_

_You deserve a standing o'_

_Cause they'd a just been over it  
_  
_Let'em talk, let 'em talk, let 'em talk, let 'em talk_

_Like we don't hear what they saying_

_Let 'em walk, let 'em walk, let 'em walk, let 'em walk_

_We'll just drive by and keep waving _

_Cause you and I above all that_

_Just let 'em wallow in it_

_Now they all choked up, yuck_

_Cause they be swallowing it._

Tifa couldn't help but chuckle at that last verse; admittedly, her lyrics had been changed up a little from her original version of this song, but it worked with the rhythm and the mainstream public seemed to find it catchy. In a way she found it refreshing that another artist had taken such an interest and given her work their own twist.

As Tifa stepped up again to the microphone to sing the chorus again, she gazed out at the audience. It was a sea of roiling, heaving, gyrating bodies dazzled by light and sound, and she never thought for a moment that she would be here. Stardom was not exactly a lifelong dream of Tifa's – but she knew she had to dig herself out of the hole she'd gotten herself into. This seemed like a more than apt way of doing that.

She closed her eyes, feeling her heart pulsating and her pupils dilating and contracting, her breath coming in short and ragged. The songs had so much meaning to her that she found it hard not to choke up. She opened up, and sang from her heart and soul.

However, when she opened her eyes again, she found herself rooted to the spot. There, amongst the spasmodic bodies of concert-goers, was none-other than Cloud Strife. Standing below her, in the centre of the crowd, he was still like a statue. Or, more like a God, with his gleaming bronze hair and ethereal blue eyes gazing up at her. His dormant face was expressionless as per the last time Tifa remembered him; it was like the wind had changed and he was unable to form any other kind of emotion.

Almost instantaneously, a kind of fury-filled madness burned through her. How dare he show up to her concert, after four whole years of no-shows! How _fitting_ that she should be singing _this song_, just as he decides to turn up. It was written in his wake, after all, one drunken night at the bar, when Tifa was at one of her lowest points. This was just so typical that Tifa found it hard not to roll her eyes at him.

Abruptly, Tifa found herself pulled into Reno's arms as his last verse came, and for the audience's sake – and perhaps to put a thick, pointy shard of ice up Cloud's asshole – she put on a show and gyrated obscenely along with him.

_No one holds me down like you do, sweetheart _Reno nearly whispered to her.

_You keep doing that, _

_I'll keep doing this_

_We'll be aight in the end,_

_Trust that._

_We put the us in trust, baby,_

_Ow, let's go!  
_

Tearing herself away from Reno, Tifa turned back to the audience and, glaring daggers with smouldering black eyes, she sang the last part of her chorus as the song climbed up in tempo. She aimed it directly at Cloud – after all, it was in his honour, wasn't it?

_I don't care what you're after_

_As long as I'm the one,_

_No, I don't care why you're leaving_

_You'll miss me when you're gone!_

_I don't know…_

_Where you're going,_

_Or when you're coming home…_

_I left the keys under the mat _

_To our front door_

_For one more chance to hold you close_

_I don't know where you're going_

_Just get your ass back home._

"I'm home, baby!" Reno called, slinging his arm around Tifa's neck.

The crowd lost their minds in ecstasy and Cloud's dark glare was the last thing Tifa saw before the stage went dark. She was spent from the performance, but more than anything she felt like a vice was closing around her lungs from seeing the man she hadn't seen for for four years, and had obsessed over her whole life.

Why now? Why did he have to come back _now_? She was doing so well – _better_ than well – and now he turns up just like that to try and ruin her world all over again, just when she had finally finished gluing the fragile pieces back together.

It was another half-hour before Tifa was due to go back on. What was she to do? Should she go and see him? A part of her – that longing, yearning, aching part of her – was dying to run into his arms, even though she knew he wouldn't receive her quite as enthusiastically.

Then the other part of her – the hurt, broiling, seething part of her – firmly put up the walls and flatly refused to go near him. She needed a drink, and some time to think this through, properly. Heaving a mighty sigh and rubbing her temples, she staggered back to her makeshift room backstage and poured herself a gin.

"Hey baby,"

Tifa whirled around in her chair backstage, drink in hand, to see Reno leaning against the doorframe. She frowned.

"Please don't call me that."

"Sorry, babe. Oops, I mean – uh – 'babe's' better, yeah?" Reno grinned that wily grin and she couldn't help but crack a smile back at him. He swaggered into her room. "Pretty good performance tonight, babe. That grinding up against me was _hot_! Damn!"

Tifa chuckled. "Thanks, Reno. Just trying to put on a good show, you know."

"I think we need to do some more collaborations, perhaps of a different kind…you know what I'm saying?"

She could tell he had been drinking, or perhaps he was high. She wasn't sure which. Drugs were as common paraphernalia as alcohol in the showbiz world, as she had come to know all too well.

"Reno, I have to practice for my next performance."

"Alright babe, I get ya. But here…" he slipped her a piece of paper with a number written on it. "Let's hook up some time, yo? I'd really like to do something more with you…" the innuendo in his tone was all too obvious.

She couldn't stifle the laugh and pushed him out of her room. "Maybe after the concert. Bye, Reno!"

_Damned cute, lanky red-haired fool,_ Tifa thought, placing the number in her wallet for later. Right now, she had other things to attend to.

"Thank you all so much for coming tonight. It honours me that you care enough about raising awareness for The Stigma that you would come to hear me play. This is a song I wrote not so long ago, in tribute to finding emotional freedom… it's called _The World is My Stage_. Right now, that couldn't be more true. I hope you like it."

Raven swished her long, champagne-coloured gown in behind her as she seated herself behind the grand piano. Finding her fingers on the keys, she waited for her cue, and then softly she began to play. This time, she could have cared less if Cloud was watching or not, but silently she hoped he would be. This song, out of all of them, spoke the most powerful feelings in her heart as of late toward the man. He needed to know.

Glancing once down at the crowd – which was more subdued than it had been earlier in the night – Raven's gaze locked on to Cloud's. He was still here. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath, and the words poured out of her like syrup.

_I could say that I'll always be here for you,  
But that would be a lie and quite a pointless thing to do.  
I could says that I'll always have feelings for you,  
But I've got a life ahead of me and I'm only 22._

Since you've gone I've lost that chip on my shoulder,  
Since you've gone I feel like I've gotten older,  
And now you've gone it feels as if the whole wide world is my stage  
And now you've gone it's like I've been let out of my cage…

_You always made it clear that we'd be nothing but friends,  
You made me feel so fucked up when I was_

_Going round the bend.  
And everything was always about being the hero,  
And now you've gone I've come to realise _

_What I've missed amounts to zero._

_Since you've gone I've lost that chip on my shoulder,  
Since you've gone I feel like I've gotten older,  
And now you've gone it feels as if the whole wide world is my stage  
And now you've gone it's like I've been let out of my cage…_

Tifa was surprised to see Cloud clapping – along with hundreds of others – after the song came to a close. Avoiding his gaze, she stepped up from the piano and bowed to the audience with a flourish. One last glance before she turned her back to walk offstage told her that Cloud's cheeks were wet. She smirked a little triumphantly to herself and glided away.

Tifa was exhausted, lying in bed just on the fringes of sleep at approximately 3am the following morning, when a rumbling sound stirred her. It was still dark, and she woke, disoriented. Perhaps it was just an early-morning driver making his deliveries…Cloud, she concluded. Who else. She huffed a sigh and threw the covers off, stumbling over to the window of her inner-city apartment. Surely enough, far down below among the tangle of neon lights criss-crossing between the buildings, was Cloud Strife, sitting on Fenrir.

"It's a bit late, Cloud." she called down, not even bothering to make an effort to disguise the irony in her tone.

"Please…Tifa. Come down."

She sighed and pushed herself away from the windowsill, not noticing her hands were trembling until she reached for her robe. She shrugged it on with a little more force than was necessary and padded her way down to the ground floor, taking care not to wake Marlene or Denzel.

She was startled, to say the least, when Cloud was standing immediately in the doorway upon unlocking the door. She looked straight at his chest, unable to even look him in the eye, because she knew she would fall apart at the seams if she did.

It had been four years.

Four years of being in the dark, not knowing if he was dead, or alive. She had been to all the places she thought he might have been – the church, Zack's resting place, even Nibelheim. Not a trace.

"Cloud…" her voice cracked unceremoniously. "I thought you were gone…like the rest of them."

"You never gave up, though. I can tell." His gentle voice came from somewhere above her.

"I tried to find you–"

"I didn't want to be found."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and clutched more tightly to her robe. Finally she dared herself to look at him.

Not much had changed, although his face was a little leaner and more weathered than she remembered. The blue irises sang a soprano of his agony as clear as a violin in her ears when she lost herself in them, and she could fight it no more. With an immense sob she threw her arms around him and cried, because that's all she knew how to do in this precise moment, at 3.15am on a Sunday morning in the nightlife district of Edge, with this man who had become a stranger to her.

Tifa had tried to prepare herself for what might come. But after leaving the venue of the concert and finding no trace of Cloud Strife anywhere, she figured he had disappeared like the white rabbit back down the hole, once again.

A tidal wave of despair had hit her like a full-frontal assault when she realised she had this one opportunity to speak to him in her grasp, but it had slipped through her fingers. Subsequently, she went back home to her apartment, drunk herself into a stupor and went to bed, totally wiped out, falling into a near-comatose state. There was only so much emotional turmoil one could handle in any given day.

"Tifa…I'm sorry." Cloud whispered into her hair as he found the back of her head with his gloved hand. "Please don't cry. You'll wake the children."

Tifa, still shaking and sobbing relentlessly, shook her head against his chest. "Sorry for _what_? We never _had_ anything, Cloud. It was stupid for me to think…that I actually meant something to you."

She felt him physically tighten, as if she'd rubbed salt into an open wound.

"If you want me to leave…then I will. But this time, I won't come back."

"At least I would have some notice, this time." Tifa muttered.

"I'm sorry I left you to fend for yourself for so long, Tifa, but there were some things I needed to address and…I'm doing better, now."

"Then come _home_," she pleaded, tears streaking down her cheeks.

He shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "I can't. Look at you now – all fame and fortune. It seems you're doing just fine without me."

Tifa stared at him, mute. So many times in her mind she had gone over scenarios of what she would say to him, or what she would do – sharp lines and comebacks for every possible setting. But now – now that he was _actually here_, after four years of _nothing_, she found herself dumbstruck.

"So, where are you going to go, now?" she asked in small, croaky voice. She hated the way she sounded, so pathetic and child-like.

"I'll be around."

"For the kids' sake, if not my own." Tifa replied, gathering some strength. "They miss you, Cloud."

He nodded, and for a moment they simply looked at each other and didn't say anything. They knew this wasn't about the kids. If only Tifa knew what he was thinking. She'd give anything to know.

"You have to let me go, now, Tifa."

She knew he didn't mean physically, clamped onto him as she was.

"I need you to set me free."

He knew she had always loved him.

And, without further hesitation, she felt herself surrender. This was ultimately the moment she had been waiting for, for four years.

"Okay." She whispered, a great rush of air coming out of her.

Cloud nodded again and closed his eyes, then placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. He turned to go and, with a courteous glance back over his shoulder, he said, "I'll be seeing you, Tifa. Or, should that be, _Raven_?"

Despite feeling like she had been shattered into a million crystalline shards, Tifa smiled. She knew she had come out the victor in this. Cloud had complexities that he would live with for the rest of his life that she couldn't even start to fathom. But Tifa was just beginning her life, and in order to move forward, she knew she had to let him go. Cloud had only been trying to make it easier for her.

"The world is your stage now, Raven. Fly away." Cloud mumbled as he walked away, back toward where Fenrir was parked.

Tifa watched him ride away down the street until he was out of sight, and, oddly enough, she felt a lot lighter. She smiled and whispered to herself, "The World is My Stage," and closed the door, softly behind her.

**Phantom:** Reviews and criticism always welcome. Just remember it was _supposed_ to be slightly AU and out of context time-wise. Thanks! ^-^


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